


To the Bitter End

by vaginadentatas



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, F/M, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-21 11:53:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20693084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaginadentatas/pseuds/vaginadentatas
Summary: She promised years ago, watching her father slink around Mom in fear, that she would never fall in love. She’d never fall for gold rings and pretty smiles. She’d never let someone hurt her without hurting them back. It worked, for the first thirty years.~~~A look at Nisha and her relationship with Jack





	To the Bitter End

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, hi. I have a lot of feelings about Nisha Kadam all the time and they never go away, so I figured I'd put them on paper for everyone else to read. If you're looking for a love story with a happy ending, please look somewhere else, because I don't think Nisha was ever destined to have a happy ending, and that makes me really emo.
> 
> There's not a lot of Jack content, this is really just focusing on Nisha and her feelings. No apologies for that.
> 
> The tone between scenes jumps quite a bit, and maybe I could have added more to make transitions smoother, but really? Writing fic is hard and I wrote what I wanted to write.

She promised years ago, watching her father slink around Mom in fear, that she would never fall in love. She’d never fall for gold rings and pretty smiles. She’d never let someone hurt her without hurting them back. It worked, for the first thirty years. Men would offer gifts and women would offer warm beds and she’d pass them by, time and time again. Suitors and chasers gone and then forgotten. It was easy. Pandora made it easy. Raise your gun a little higher and people would scatter, or they’d shoot back. Either way, they wouldn't bother her any more. 

It started, all of it, the rise, the fall, the revelation, with Wilhelm. A mercenary hired to kill her for, of all things, not loving someone back. All it took was a quick bullet to the bitter assholes brain and splitting the dough with Wilhelm for something of an understanding to form. They worked well together. Nisha was fast, nimble, killed just as well with a pistol as with a sniper, Wilhelm was a brick house that nothing could topple, and together, people dropped like flies under their hail of bullets. They rarely talked, except for echo correspondence. “Got a job, need some help. You willing?” Nothing that most would consider a friendship, but between them, it worked. And then they both get an offer to work for a guy named Jack. Big money. Save the world. Find a vault. Two of those things interested them both, so they accepted, and from there it was all downhill.

Jack was a lot of things, but mostly, he was dangerous. At the start, that’s what attracted her to him. Hell of a mistake that was in the end.

* * *

One Thursday evening, Nisha is sprawled out on Jack’s black leather couch. She likes the feel of it. Cow leather is softer, more supple than the skag leather she’s grown accustomed to. The TV mounted on the wall is playing some old classic Western action flick, and there’s a low buzz of fine whiskey in her blood. It’s nice. Opulent in a way she never thought she’d be comfortable with, but here she is, soaking it in. It’s Jack that makes it bearable, really. The leather couch looks even better when he’s tied up on it.

When the door opens, and Jack strolls in, a feather-light smile graces Nisha’s expression. She rolls her head to look at him through half-lidded eyes, and he approaches with his hand tucked behind his back.

“What’cha hidin’, cowboy?” She drawls, and Jack smiles back down at her.

“Surprise. Close your eyes, sugar, and keep your mouth open.” 

If anyone else called her sugar, she’d’ve cut their tongue out their mouths with the rusty blade of her gun. But Jack, he’s special. So she follows his order, and waits patiently while he rustles. Only laughs when he clicks his tongue at her for trying to peek.

His voice is soft as the pressure against her tongue. “Go on, dig in,” and when she bites down it's a bust of sweetness in her mouth. She doesn’t like sweet normally, but when she opens her eyes Jack’s beaming like it's Christmas.

“What is that?”

“That’s the benefit of being rich, sweetheart. I can afford anything. Even Eden-6 strawberries. We’ve got a whole shipment of organic fruits and veggies coming in, we’ll be using them to start up farm on Helios. All high-quality food from the Eden’s, nothing trashy like skag bacon. And-”

And Nisha smiles because she _ likes _ skag bacon, but right now she’s thinking about strawberries. Thinking about being six years old, sitting on a park bench with her dog and her dad, sharing a single slice of strawberry shortcake. It’s her birthday and Mom said no cake, but her father slipped out of the house and found a little bakery anyways. They hid at the park, eating their little secret, and when they go home that night, the cup Mom throws shatters against a wall and makes a cut under Nisha’s eye. It’s the best birthday Nisha’s ever had.

So when Jack finally trails off about the new wing being built on Helios, and how hard it was to get his fingers on all this food, Nisha tugs him down by the collar to kiss him. Because she doesn't like sweets, but she likes Jack, and he likes fancy food, and she loves how eager he is to share that with her.

* * *

She lies awake, with his face pressed into her collarbone, his arm around her waist, and she wonders if she's next. If the bullet will come from behind,or if she’ll stare her own death in the face. Maybe it’ll be poison, like Wilhelm. If she’ll go down in a line of fire protecting Jack’s wild ideas, or if it’s Jack himself who will pull the trigger. She turns in bed, and buries her face into his hair. Smells like coconut and pineapple. Familiar. Soothing. _ Nice _, in a way that isn’t matched on Pandora. Jack’s given her a lot of things, but mostly, he’s given her a home. Her lips press a kiss to the crown of his head, and she wonders if she could manage to leave instead. Pack her bags and disappear into the expanse of the universe. She’s done it once before, after Mom died. How hard could it be to do it again?

But Jack would find her, and then she’d have to answer why. Have to stare him in the eye and tell him “I can’t do this anymore,” and her heart breaks just thinking about it. She’d kill herself before he got the chance, if it came down to those ugly, awful words.

Love hurts. Aches it’s way through her bones and settles under her skin. She holds Jack in her arms, and feels how much she loves him with every fiber of her being, and she knows she has to let go. It’s time. She promised. It’s that dog, all over again. Blue lips and red eyes are replaced with a handsome face and excited laughter, but it’s the same. She’s holding onto something that’ll come back to bite her in the end, and she doesn’t have anyone to pry the teeth from her neck this time around. A hand reaches up, and brushes the scar still marked on her throat. She promised herself, she'd never let love hurt her again.

But life is full of broken promises, so she throws her arm over his shoulder, and she curls up into him. A soft mumble falls from his lips as he adjusts to her new position, pulls her closer. Nisha smiles, her tears hidden in dark lashes and the scent of coconut, and she lets herself fall asleep in his arms.

* * *

She thinks to herself, bleeding in the dirt while vault hunters loot her half-dead body, this is it. This is her chance. The Pandoran sky is a vibrant, aching blue as she stares up and lets her breathing slow down to barely a whisper. Every time she’s been here before, almost dead, she’d stand back up, but now she thinks. It’d be nice to get a decent night's sleep. Nice to rest without waking up in a cold sweat, hand already in her gun. Nice to sleep without waking up at all. Vault hunters will either kill Jack or they’ll die trying. It’s not her problem any more. Jack can have his cake and eat it to, and she can pass by the wayside. Find out who won their bet on the afterlife. She’d always hoped hell was real, but Jack voted on nothing, just emptiness. The sky splits itself wide with white, and Nisha closes her eyes. For years she figured this would be how it ends. One-to-many bullet wounds and soil so soaked in blood that she can taste the iron. There wasn't any other way she’d have it. Going out without a fight never was an option. 

But this, bleeding out in her own town, ain’t much of a fight, is it? Her mother's voice echoes in her ears, screaming “That’s right, you bitch. Stay down,” and her eyes crack back open, and a tattered wheeze escapes her lungs as she peels herself off the ground, and sits up. Everything hurts. Her bones feel like molten metal, burning at her core. The world tastes likes it's rusted over, and she catches movement in the corner of her eye. One of the vault hunters stuck around, and he’s raising his gun with every second she remains alive. It’s natural, like breathing, to grab the gun laying bloody at her side and shoot his weapon out of his hand. They stay still for a long moment, as Nisha stares into that empty black glass of a helmet, and finally she’s the one who breaks the silence. “Ain’t no need to worry about getting paid for your hit. I’ll disappear, and the guy who's hired you will be long dead ‘fore I show up again.”

The mask lights up red with a zero, and his voice rumbles almost like laughter. “A cruel twist of fate, to trust in your enemy. But I’ll stay silent.” And with that, he’s gone, disappearing without trace. All that’s left behind is a glinting red syringe that Nisha reaches for, and stabs into her wrist. Cold rushes through her veins, and knits together her wounds. She lets herself fall onto her arms, heaving dust into her lungs, before the strength to stand on her feet returns. One foot in front of the other, Nisha carries herself to the Lynchwood station, and then beyond. Jack won’t find a body, but there’s not a soul alive in Lynchwood who can tell him where she went. That’s good enough for a fresh start.

* * *

The news reaches her late. She’s been holed up on Elpis, avoiding all human contact save for the scav that drops food in front of her door on a weekly basis, and even then, they don’t talk. It’s just a mutual agreement between two people trying to survive. He brings food, she doesn't tear apart his bands entire settlement. It works. Sometimes she cries herself to sleep in her bed, fingers brushing the scar on her neck, but it doesn't happen often. Mostly she digs her nails until the raised lines start to ache, and she tells herself _ this is why you left. _

Until one day the delivery comes, and she’s sitting by the door, cleaning under her nails with the blade attached to her gun. The shuffle of a package being dropped, and then silence. Half a minute later, a voice rumbles through the metal separating them.

“Helios fell. I dunno nuthin’ about you, miss, but I felt like you should know. Everybody’s been celebrating now that Hyperion’s gone, so I left some whiskey in your package.”

She says quiet, stock still in her chair, until his voice comes again. A muttered “Have a good day then,” followed by the light sounds of his footsteps fading away.

Two hours later, Nisha pushes herself to her feet, and opens the door. Not just the package slot at the bottom, but the whole door. Her foot nudges the cardboard inside, and then she steps out onto the face of Elpis and looks up at the sky. Helios is gone, just as he said. The view of Pandora stretches across the horizon, ugly and beautiful at the same time. It aches to look at, seeming marred without the black of Helios to frame inside it. Nothing to stamp itself in front of the dangerous, intimidating giant. She tells herself, this is natural. How it was supposed to be. But she can’t help thinking that it feels hollow; that the ghost of Helios leaves a raw wound in the sky. Maybe she’s thinking too much.

She steps back inside and bolts the door again. Steady hands reach for the box sitting at floor, and pull out that bottle of whiskey. The crack of the cap is satisfying, same as the burn down her throat. Half the bottle later, she sets it on the floor next to her chair, and goes digging for something else instead: a dusty echocom. For the first time in almost a year, she turns it on, and settles into her spot to learn about everything she’s missed.

Jack’s dead. That’s the first thing she confirms. The alcohol numbs it all down until all she can do is scoff. She wonders if he’d still be alive if she had been there. Wonders if she’d be alive with him. But there's no point in speculating. All there is to focus on is what’s here and real. The whiskey on her tongue and her illegally gotten Hyperion status reports. She pulls up a picture of the Helios crash. Digs up every detail she can find. Any information is better than nothing because when she runs out of things to look up, all that's left is how much she misses him.

**Author's Note:**

> Nisha is the best character in Borderlands and if you ever want to @ me about her I will love you, because she's good, and she's under appreciated, and she's my favorite, and I will talk about her any day every day, and I will cry about how she didn't deserve to die, and I will wish in absolute vain that she's alive and sipping mojitos on Elpis and sending Janey cryptic cowboy emojis on the echonet.
> 
> Find me @Snepblep on twitter.


End file.
